


Where Had the Lost Star Gone

by catieconqueso



Series: One Shots from the Pancakesverse [2]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Broken Families, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Holidays, Mention of Character Death, Mutual Pining, No Spoilers, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Pre-game V was kinda happy, V needs a hug, just some go old holiday fluff with a heaping side of angst, terrible childhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:35:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28418472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catieconqueso/pseuds/catieconqueso
Summary: Make a wish, V. His mother used to whisper it in his ear when they sat on the roof of their busted apartment building under the night sky. Hiding from his old man when he had gotten too deep in bottle. Never saw the stars even when she had brought him to the roof, definitely didn’t see them now.A fluffy holiday inspired piece inspired by the conversation between V and Takemura about not being able to see stars in Night City.
Relationships: Male V/Original Female Character
Series: One Shots from the Pancakesverse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081301
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Where Had the Lost Star Gone

If he squinted hard enough he could pretend the flare of light reflected back on the smog were stars. Just beyond the Biotechnica tower, just above the antenna where he had shot a pleading man between the eyes two days earlier.

 _Make a wish, V_. His mother used to whisper it in his ear when they sat on the roof of their busted apartment building under the night sky. Hiding from his old man when he had gotten too deep in bottle. Never saw the stars even when she had brought him to the roof, definitely didn’t see them now.

The last time had been just before she had finally kicked it. She had been nothing but bones and a mess of tangled wires, body as light as the sand that sunk into his shoes. _Wanna see the beach, Vincent?_ She had announced the words over her fourth cigarette while he quickly shoveled cereal into his mouth at their wobbly kitchen table. _Watch the stars._

Ten years old and he agreed without question, not after she let him drive the car down to the water, promised him a Cirrus on their way home. He had sat there beside her, listening to each rasping breath as she pointed out her imagined stars amongst the swirling smog and lights. He was going to be amongst those stars one day. Told him that they were lucky stars, that he should make a wish and it’d come true. He wished that she would get better.

Flatlined two days later. _Make a wish._

Not that he needed the wish, had everything he would ever want. Shiny new position at Biotechnica and the shiny new salary that came with it. Parties, clubs, a constant parade of women each one more attractive than the last, he had it all. Bought himself a shiny new shoebox apartment in Corpo Plaza, a set of shiny new suits that cost more than the bar at his back. Everything a man could ever want could ever ask for. Didn’t stop the gnawing feeling in his gut, the sleepless nights when his bed felt as empty as the pit in his stomach.

_Gotta get a girl, calbrone. I can be your wingman, show you the ropes._

_Don’t need a girl, Jackie_ , he had shot back over his third round of Centzon, his revolving door policy was preem. No strings attached. Open for all. Just waiting for the right girl to walk through that door.

_Already found her, just hadn’t accepted his invitation yet._

“Late to the party?” She was smiling, bright, wide, tired as she stepped out from the cab with soft words spoken back to the driver paired with a smile twice as sweet. Neon purple hair made her easy to spot in the darkness and the dress she wore was short enough to demand the attention of those around her. Glad she had taken a robo cab, too sweet to say no if one of the creeps harassed her during the ride. One last word to the cab, again paired with a sweet grin. Delamain. Vic must have sprung for it so she didn’t have to take the metro so late at night. “Not a good look, Samurai.”

Wasn’t sure if she was referring to the party or the circles under his eyes black as the pavement at his feet. Maybe it was the lingering tremors in his fingers from the handful of stims he had scarfed down nearly a week ago. “Worked late. What's your excuse?”

“Offered to close up the clinic so Vic could come early,” she answered settling onto the stoop beside him, bare shoulder bumping his with a smile. Could pretend his answering tremor was from the stims and not the clenching in his gut like some kind of horny teenager. “Christ it's cold.”

“Forgot your jacket?” Didn’t know why he asked. She always forgot her jacket and he always gave her his. “Or don’t have one?” His came off easily as it had a thousand times before to drape over her shoulders. Didn’t notice how her small fingers peeked out to draw it tighter around her shoulders. Definitely didn’t notice the way her lashes fluttered against her cheek when she inhaled the fabric at the collar.

“Not all of us are corpo big shots who can afford a shiny new wardrobe each week.” She giggled, a sound that definitely didn’t make his heart beat faster and his blood start to rush from his head. “We little people gotta make do with what we have.”

“Shitty excuse, Nyx,” he answered with a glare, one she returned, but with less feigned malice till they both broke into laughter.“Coulda just said you left it at Vic’s.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Bumped his shoulder again with hers. Suddenly she pulled away with a gasp as if the touch burned her, hands diving to her side beneath his jacket. She shoved a brightly colored package into his hands with a smile sugary sweet enough to make his teeth ache. “Oh! This is for you!”

“Thought we weren’t doing gifts?” He couldn’t tamp down his pinched expression fast enough to prevent the guilt that flashed through her features. “Nyx, I…” Always saying the wrong thing. Didn’t help that she made him act like a gonk each time he opened his mouth. Didn’t help that the Kiroshi advertisement above cast her in a soft pink glow, made her look like an angel from one of the old dog eared bibles his mom liked to keep around.

“I know. Just a little something.” The guilt was still there, enough to set him on edge, enough to urge him to take her small hand in his. “My way of saying sorry for not hanging out as much since I got back from Bay City.”

“Med school hotshot like you? Figured you didn’t have time for me anymore,” he answered with a forced smile.

“What about you? Corpo rising in the ranks?” She was smiling, bright, sharp, almost happy. “No time to for me with all those models you’ve been dating.”

“Think we should make time.” She squeezed his hand in agreement, fingers tight around his own. Not that he minded. Not that he wanted her to let go.

“Agreed. Open it.” She nodded expectantly towards the gift, full bottom lip pulled between her teeth, and Christ didn’t that just get him going. If it wasn’t for the eagerness in her gaze, he might press his luck, see if she’d let him beneath that short dress of hers. Wouldn’t though, she was too sweet for a quickie in a back alley behind El Coyote. Would need to do it properly, needed to see her stretched out on the silky sheets of his too large bed.

“Open it,” she urged again, nodding expectantly towards the gift.

Paper came away easily, quickly discarded. Inside was a patch, the words Samurai sewn in white with precise care into a scrap of fabric. “Nyx…” His words stuck in his throat, tacky, heavy.

“Told you it was just a little something,” she murmured, pulling the patch from his hands to hold it up proudly. “Sewed it myself. Chain stitch, just like they taught us in medical school. Thought the back of your jacket needed something. ”

“Starin’ at my back a lot?”

“Uh,” she stammered, cheeks flushing the same pink as the light that filtered around her, “It's a nice back to…I mean no, definitely no.”

“Classy. Can stare anytime. Didn’t get you anything.”

“Yeah you did,” she answered, mischievous smile definitely not sending all his blood rushing from his head. “Nice coat. This real wool?”

“You stealing my coat?” She shrugged in reply. “Know I could just buy you one. Got eddies to spare. Somethin’ real nice from one of the shops in City Center.”

“Like this one.” Fingers tightened over his. “What are you doing out here anyway? Shouldn’t you be inside helping Jackie pick out whatever girl you’re taking home tonight?” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Sure there are some real lookers.”

“Sure there are. Point is?”

Her responding look was sharp as the knife tucked in his boot, twice as knowing as one of Mama Welles’ lectures when he crashed post bender on the front room couch. “You’ve taken a different girl home each night for as long as I’ve known you. If you don’t hurry up you’ll miss the good ones.”

“Ain’t known me that long, Nyx.” His answering smile was just as sharp. “Maybe I just like the conversation. Maybe I’m waitin’ for the right girl.”

And there came the pursing of full lips, the narrowing of dark eyes. “You’re dodging my question. What are you doing out here?”

“Lookin at the stars.” She had gotten closer, leaned her head on his shoulder so that the scent of coconut shampoo washed over him. “Just up there. Preem view. ” Tilt of his chin had her following his gaze towards the sky. Shivered at the cold, definitely didn’t shiver at the feel of her cheek, soft on his shoulder.

“What stars? All I see are clouds.”

“Above the clouds,” he whispered, nodding again to the sky. “When I was little, Mom used to drag me up on the roof, cigarette in hand to sit out in the freezing cold. Said the stars were up above the clouds over Charter Hill. Could see them if you looked hard enough.”

“Never talked about her before,” she murmured, dark eyes still fixed on the sky. Her hand squeezed his again, warm, soft, safe.

“Not much to say.” With a sigh, he nudged her away. “Go inside, Nyx. Don’t want to miss your first Welles’ party.”

“What about you? Plan on freezing out here?” She stopped short of the door, and he definitely didn’t linger on her pale shoulders when she shrugged off his coat. “Gotta buy me the first drink. You promised.”

Bar was decked out in paper decorations and lights, thumping music enough to make his head ache. Wanted to mutter some half assed excuse and make for the nearest exit. But to see her perched on the barstool, feet barely brushing the ground, he’d suck it up for one night.

First drink was Centzon. Knew she picked it for his enjoyment, not hers. Always picked for others and not herself. As kids, she’d stomach the noodle stand on Roosevelt because it was Jackie’s favorite. Would stomach Centzon because she said it brought a goofy smile to his face.

Of all the times he’d seen her at El Coyote Cojo, and he could count them on one hand, she’d always sipped at some fruity drink as bright as her hair. Always balked at the heavier stuff unless it was for him. Done the same for her. He’d spent a handful of nights choking down some neon cocktail alongside her just to see her smile and hear her giggle at his cheesy pickup lines.

Didn’t fail to notice the way her face pinched at the taste, and she didn’t fail to notice the way his brow raised in suspicion. “Good?” Knew the answer, but it didn’t stop him from asking.

“Yeah,” her answer was rough around the tequila in her throat. “It's great.”

“Gotta work on your poker face, Nyx.” Poured her another drink just to see the way her nose wrinkled at the taste again. He was a selfish asshole, but he’d make it up to her later if she’d let him. And again once they’d both recovered. And finally again in his spacious shower before each of them went to work in the morning. “You’re a shit liar.”

“And Jackie needs to work on his pickup lines,” she answered, nodding to where Jackie stood bungling his way through what looked like a strained conversation. “And Misty’s not into him either, definitely not her type.”

“And you know this how?”

“Told me herself.” Nyx had taken to sipping gingerly at the tequila in her hand, each sip punctuated with another wrinkling of her round nose. “Misty leases the shop above Vic’s. Sells a bunch of mystical stuff. You should stop by, some of it's really neat.”

“Uh huh,” he waved off her knowing grin. Knew if Jackie succeeded tonight he’d be spending an awful lot of time in that shop. He’d suck it up to see her more often.

“Could align your energies,” Nyx answered, legs settling over his as she dangerously tipped back on the barstool. Christ, he was going to overload there and then on that worn barstool. And then her hands were on his shoulder and he did finally overload. “Make you less of a boring corpo drone.”

He fought the urge to push her legs off, the urge to rest his hand on her bare thigh, the urge to let his fingers trail higher and beneath her too short dress. “Me?” Hand pointed at his chest in mock annoyance, he found himself leaning closer, other hand definitely settling on her knee, “Boring?” Definitely didn’t notice the tremor in her hands when she pressed another shot of Centzon to her lips to hide her smile.

“Yes, you. Vincent Antonovich, the most straight edge gonk in Night City,” she answered finishing her shot with a proud smile. She was drunk, round cheeks flaming red under the dull string of lights overhead. “Need to loosen up.”

“Gonna help with that?”

She was staring, studying him, and he could easily see the circuits firing in her brain, each pop of thought springing into existence and fizzling away. Finally, she landed on whatever conclusion she meant to come to, smile splitting into something much more devious. And his blood definitely rushed from his head to pool in his dick.

“You wanna get out of here, Samurai?”

“What?” Christ, he really way a gonk. Pretty girl offering to take him home and that was all he could say. Wasn’t just a pretty girl, this was Nyx. Had known her since they were a pair of street kids back in Charter Hill. She’d been too smart and too sweet back then with a daddy who owned a clinic down near Heywood. She still was, just without the daddy and the clinic near Heywood. Drunk on Centzon, she’d let take her into a back alley, wouldn’t put up a fight. Tell him she had been waiting for him to give in. She’d be sweet, inviting when he had his way with her, and in the morning she’d tell him she loved him and kiss away any doubt in his mind.

“Get out of here. You and me,” she answered, casting a quick look towards the bar before pulling him from the barstool with a wide smile.“See some real stars?”

“Yeah, okay.” Didn’t want to admit he was disappointed, didn’t want to admit his sweat slicked palms were from the feel of her hand in his. Wasn’t sure why he followed so willingly, let her lead him to his bike with gentle touches and bright smiles. “Where we goin?”

“It's a surprise,” she whispered settling behind him, against him, her arms wrapped tightly about his waist. Could stay like this forever, her on his bike, arms tightly about him, her breath warm against the back of his neck, soft music from his radio floating around them.

Night City was a distant glow, blues and purples just above the horizon when the bike finally ground to a halt. Around them hung inky darkness, her just visible by the faint glow of her pale skin in the moonlight.

“What are we doing out here, Nyx?” She didn’t answer, instead shot him a sweet smile. “Can’t see shit.”

“It's a surprise.” Another bright grin over her shoulder. “We’re close, I pinky promise,” she whispered, pinky curling around his. Stumbled over a rock, not at the feel of their linked hands. “Dad used to come out here and treat the Nomad tribes. Let me tag along.”

“So your surprise is a Nomad caravan?”

“No, you gonk.” Another pull on his hand urging him to keep up. “Sometimes we didn’t make it back before sundown so we used to sleep out in Dad’s Thornton.”

“Don’t think we’ll both fit on the bike.”

“The worst,” she muttered, pulling him to follow up the rock bank. Wasn’t complaining, it offered quite the view of her ass and the briefest flash of the lace panties she wore underneath. “We’re here. Close your eyes and give me your jacket.”

“Gonna kill me and rob my body?” He willingly slipped out of his jacket. Always would if she asked.

“If you keep asking questions, I might,” she answered, dark eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Now close your eyes.”

He did, letting his eyes linger one last time on her face. Let her draw him down to his knees with gentle touches and the warmth of her breath on his cheek. “Definitely gonna kill me, Nyx.”

“No, I’m not. Now lay back.” Christ he was going to die. Flatline in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere from the feel of her pushing back into the hard ground. Definitely flatlined when she tucked herself against him. “Now open them.”

The sight of her above him naked and willing wouldn’t have been as preem as the glow of the stars in the sky above them. “Nyx…its…”

“Beautiful right,” she answered, head tucked against his shoulder, purple curls tickling at his chest. “Dad used to stop here so we could watch the stars.”

Reminded him of when they were children, when she, Jackie, and him would sneak up onto the roof of El Coyote Cojo and watch the AVs that floated overhead. He’d make up stories about each one to whisper in her ear just to hear the sound of her laughter.

Last time had been the night before she left for Bay City. Snuck up on the roof to share a stolen bottle of Centzon between them. He still made up the stories, had basked in the glow of the city and the sound of her laughter.

“Never seen so many. Never seen any at all,” he babbled, voice huskier than it should have been. Christ, he was babbling, nervous, palm sweaty where it pressed to hers. Focus on the stars, not on her. The milky wash of light above them, the soft glow of the moon on her pale skin. Overheating would be mercy at this point. “Mom would have loved this.”

“Tell me about her, please?”

“Died when I was a kid,” he admitted, the story thick and tacky in his throat. Not one he ever told before. Not even to Jackie. “Cancer. Just after my old man. Used to like to look at the stars. Knew all their names even though we never saw any stars.” The story was raw like the wound in his chest where his heart had been. “Mom was a Nomad so she knew stars. Think when she followed dad to Night City and lost the stars she lost herself too.”

“V…Vincent,” she murmured, fingers reaching up to trace along the stubble on his jaw. “You think you’ve lost your stars?”

“Said it yourself, I’m a mindless corpo drone.”

“You’re not mindless, V.” She was astride him in a flash, legs tucked on either side of his hips. And he was going to die there under the stars after all. “Got more heart than anyone else I know.”

“Live in a shoebox apartment alone. Think I may have lost the plot somewhere.”

“Well consider this the first step towards finding it again. You looked like you needed to see stars, and now you have.” Again her hand squeezed his, the soft rush of her breath warm against the skin of his neck. “Cold though.”

“And I can remedy that.” Tucked her easily against him, fit perfectly into the crook of his shoulder like it had been made for her. Wasn’t going to overload, not at a simple touch. Then came the press of her lips to his cheek, and he finally did overload. “Merry Christmas, Nyx.”

“Merry Christmas, Samurai.”


End file.
